Finding Peace
by Alfirin1986
Summary: Cadhla Cousland puts on a brave face as she works to defeat the Blight but she holds a lot of inner turmoil within her over the loss of her family.


The Chantry preaches that it is by the will of the Maker that people are guided on their path through life. It is by his divine power that they open their hearts to others or stay their hand against those who have wronged them. While it may not always be clear to them or they may not agree with it, the faithful follow their course with minimal doubt or resistance for they believe that the Maker knows what is best for them. The truly devout join the Chantry in its quest to spread the word of their god until the Chant of Light is sung from the four corners of the world. When that happens it is believed that the Maker will forgive all of the world's sins.

Cadhla found those words did little to ease the hearts of the bereaved. They seemed to help some people, but they were empty of any reassurance to her. Maybe it was because she often found it hard to have faith in a god that had abandoned his own creations. Despite that she had learned to not speak such openly. She had often earned a lecture from Mother Mallol for such speech. She still followed the Andrastian faith though her period of doubt had not waned. After losing so much—her family, her home, the order that had taken her in despite all of that—there were mornings she found her anger at him to be almost unbearable, but if she gave up on her faith in the Maker what was left to her?

Her eyes burned and she told herself it was the smoke from the perfumed candles someone had lit in the Redcliffe Chantry and not from withheld tears. She herself had some small white candles the servants from the castle had given to her. She had brought one for her father and mother, one for her sister-in-law, Oriana and another for her beloved nephew, Oren, a boy that had been able to bring a smile to her face on the worst of days. They had all been lost to the treachery of one they had called a friend.

She thought about lighting a candle for her brother, but she couldn't bring herself to. There was still room to hope that he had survived. It might be just a sliver, but she couldn't relinquish it. It felt like the only thing she had left of her family. So instead she lit the last candle for Duncan—a man she had not known long but one that had given her a place in his order when all else had seemingly been lost. He had saved her life in more ways than one and she couldn't remember if she had ever actually thanked him for it.

Cadhla shook her head and tipped the wick of that last candle into the flame of one already ablaze. Her hands shook as she watched the small flame swell and dance. She clenched her fingers tighter, willing the trembling to cease.

"It is quite early for a trip to the chantry, no?" a familiar voice asked.

The red haired bard knelt beside her and took the candle, placing it beside the others. Cadhla watched the woman press her hands together and close her eyes as she offered up a prayer to the divine power she placed so much faith in.

Cadhla blushed when she was caught staring, though Leliana didn't seem to mind. "I can pray with you if you like, Cadhla."

"I thank you, but I think I've offered up enough unanswered prayers to last a lifetime." Her words came out harsher than she intended. The redhead had become a friend and she had only been kind. She sighed, "I'm sorry, Leliana. I—"

"You do not have to apologize," she interrupted. "There is a lot on your shoulders; it must be a heavy burden."

"Still it does not give me cause to snap at you."

"You have gone through a lot. If you ever wish to talk about it I am willing to listen."

The bard's offer was kind but Cadhla had been bottling up her past since before Ostagar and she wasn't sure she would know how to let it out, even if she wanted to. Her companions knew she had suffered through the loss of her family before joining the Wardens, but they all had suffered loss of some sort. It seemed unfair to burden them further when they all bore the scars of their pasts.

iThat will have to change eventually. I cannot kill that traitor without explanation. If nothing else they have earned that much from me./i

"You did a noble thing," Leliana said.

That startled her and she looked at her friend, "What do you mean?"

"With the Lady Isolde and Connor. You risked your life to make sure they both survived. Many would have taken the easier route."

Cadhla shrugged. "It was the right thing to do." iAnd the right thing isn't always easy,/i she told herself. She remembered that lesson well. She had been eight years old when she had come back to the Cousland estate bruised and brushing back tears during one of their extended stays in Denerim. She had gotten into a fight with a few of the other children from noble houses who had been picking on the blacksmith's son, a boy who had been slow of mind, but quick to smile. He had always seemed nice to her.

iHer fellows had found her defense of the boy insulting and they had turned their attentions on her instead. With four against one she had no hope of winning, but she put up a good fight. The approach of some guardsmen sent them scurrying off in separate directions. The bullies had wanted to stir up trouble but they had no desire to risk the wrath of the guards.

Her father had only raised his brow appraisingly when he took in his youngest child's appearance as she stood between the two city guards who had escorted her home. He thanked them for bringing her safely back and they had departed with a bow. Whatever punishment awaited was left to the teryn.

Settling his child into the chair in his study Bryce had listened as she had told him what had transpired in the market. Her gray eyes had stayed glued to her knees as she spoke. She knew she was in trouble either way, but experience told her she would be in more trouble if she lied about it.

"I'm sorry, papa, but it just seemed wrong!" she exclaimed at the end of her tale. Her eyes had been full of tears, but they were fierce as she met his gaze for the first time since she had been home.

She had been surprised when he had laughed and kissed her forehead. "You did the right thing, Pup." He set her on her feet. "Sometimes doing what's right won't be easy. Not by far." He could see the confusion on her face as her eight-year old brain tried to process exactly what that meant. "Don't worry. You'll understand when you're older," he assured her.

He had walked her to the door, "Now go change before your mother catches you. If she finds you've ripped another pair of stockings even I won't be able to save you from her lecture."/i

What she wouldn't give to have that back again. She would sacrifice everything she had to walk through the halls of her home and see her father intent on something at his desk or to hear her mother shriek when she saw the clothes Cadhla had worn to the practice yard. She had taken for granted the times Oriana and her had sat for tea together trading sisterly gossip. She had believed there would be years of lessons ahead for Oren, who wanted to grow up to be a warrior just like his father. She would do everything so differently if she could go back again, but there was nothing that could turn back time.

"No family deserves to be torn apart if it can be stopped," she told Leliana. And Connor reminded her so much of Oren. He had been just like the arl's son—so young and full of life. As soon as she had set eyes on Connor she knew the only path she could take would be the one that spared this child's life. Oren had been lost to her but she would fight for this boy as long as she drew breath.

"Are you alright?" Leliana asked quietly, rousing Cadhla from her thoughts.

"Hmmm…? Oh yes, I'm fine." Cadhla pushed herself to her feet and the bard rose beside her. The woman was so graceful it almost made her cringe at herself. She was no oaf, but she was nowhere near as lithe as her companion.

She brushed the hair that fell into her face away impatiently as she headed for the door. Her escape from the castle had been made early and as such hadn't wasted time on taming her unruly hair. It was cleaner than it had been in weeks and as such it had been so slick that it hadn't wanted to stay tied back. Her auburn locks were much like those of the father she had come to commemorate. Left to their own devices they cascaded in waves over her shoulders.

"There is a verse I know that may ease your mind," Leliana offered as they started back up the road to the castle. "Would you like to hear it?"

Cadhla looked over in surprise. "Thank you, but no. I'm... not…" She trailed off as she searched for the right word to turn down the bard's offer politely.

"Ready?" Leliana suggested with a smile. She didn't seem offended that her offer had been declined.

Cadhla nodded, forcing a little smile though she suspected its countenance was severely lacking.

"It is no trouble. I will still know it when you are ready. I can wait as long as you like. I am very patient." She clasped her hands together and laughed to herself. "That reminds me of the time I was waiting for Lady Cecile in one of the grand halls in Val Royeaux…"


End file.
